


take care of me

by ohhanabi98



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Not Beta Read, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:16:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29652576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohhanabi98/pseuds/ohhanabi98
Summary: Atsukita Week Day 2: Sacrifice + Royalty AURice Farmer Kita Shinsuke stumbles upon a stranger in his rice paddy and finds a runaway prince.
Relationships: Kita Shinsuke & Miya Atsumu, Kita Shinsuke/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 8
Kudos: 64
Collections: Atsukita Week





	take care of me

The night always brought surprises; Shinsuke knew this. He was the youngest farmer in his village, therefore seemingly the appropriate man for night watch. The young farmer was making his normal rounds when he heard rustling in the rice stalks. The light from lantern illuminated the floor of the rice paddy as Shinsuke brought it closer to the source of the sound. He was greeted with a swift pull on his arm, a knife to his throat, and his lantern being put out once it hit the water.

“Don’t say a word, and stay put,” the raspy voice threatened lowly.

Shinsuke obeyed the man, seeing that he didn’t have much of a choice. His back landed against the man’s chest, with the stranger’s arm trapping him in his place. The cool blade stung against his flushed skin. They were hiding behind the tall rice stalks, and they laid there silently. Suddenly, the sound of horses galloping crescendoed towards them. He heard the stranger suck in his breath.

“I don’t see anyone here!” screamed the horse rider. A parade of galloping horses followed him away from the rice paddies.

Once the noise was faint enough for him to assume that no one else was around, the stranger released Shinsuke from his grip. He fell off of the man’s chest and started coughing after the pressure on his throat disappeared. The usual clear water looked uncharacteristically dark, and the young farmer could smell a faint scent of iron.

“Are you bleeding?”

“…”

“Sir,” Shinsuke lit a match and ignited his lantern. The light exposed the stranger’s face and body, covered in bruises, wounds, and smeared blood. “Let me treat your injuries.”

“After I threatened you with a knife?” He scoffed, pushing himself up from the ground. “I’m not naive, you’ll turn me into the authorities.”

Shinsuke was too tired to deal with this man’s stubbornness. “Then think of this as a selfish act. If I leave you bleeding here, you’ll ruin my crops.”

He pulled the man by the arm. Surprisingly, the stranger didn’t resist. They trudged their way out of the paddies and into the farmer’s home. Shinsuke handed him towels to dry off and pulled out his first aid kit. They didn’t exchange any words as he dressed the stranger’s wounds.

“What’s your name?” The stranger was looking at Shinsuke warily as he wrapped the bandage around his arm.

“Kita Shinsuke,” he replied plainly.

The man stayed silent for a brief moment before he began interrogating the other. “What do you do for a living? You seem to be quite confident that I wouldn’t kill you if you’re offering care to someone who threatened you half an hour ago.”

“I’m a rice farmer, sir,” Shinsuke replied politely as he tied up the bandage of the last wound that needed treatment. “I already told you why I’m doing this.”

“Don’t you need to know my name?” He asked with frustration.

The farmer got up from his stool, moving it back into the corner and grabbing a set of dry clothes to hand to the stranger. “This should be okay for the night, it’s the largest set I have. You can stay here, if you’d like. I need to go back to my patrol.”

The stranger was left flabbergasted when Shinsuke left the small home. He looked down at the clothes in his hand: a navy pinstripe _jinbei_ set. With reluctance, he changed out of his wet clothes; the pants cut high above his ankles and the sleeves stopped half way past his forearm. He then slipped into the futon his host left on the tatami mat. Soon he slipped into unconsciousness, body heavy with exhaustion and mind numb from the stress.

By the time the man woke up, the sun was already half mast in the sky. He panicked at the sudden realization of the unfamiliar surroundings and was only exasperated by the entrance of the farmer he met the night before.

“You’re finally awake,” Shinsuke took off his conical hat and hung it on the coat rack. “Hungry?”

On cue, the stranger’s stomach growled loudly. He mumbled an agreement.

Breakfast consisted of grilled fish, steamed vegetables, and rice. The two men ate quietly, only the sounds of children playing nearby could be heard. Shinsuke finished his portions and leaned back in his seat to observe the man in front of him. It was the first time he had an opportunity to see the stranger’s face clearly. He was a sharp-looking man, with hooded tawny-colored eyes and long, thick blond hair. Shinsuke slowly realized who the man he’s hosting was… but he stayed quiet and sipped on his cup of green tea.

With a mouth full of rice, he glared at the farmer —who was staring at him. “You seem like you have something to say?”

“I didn’t realized the prince ate so unmannerly,” Shinsuke casually put.

“It’s because I’ve been starving for —” The alleged prince stopped scraping the grains of rice in his bowl and placed it down on the table. He leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the table and rubbing his palms together. “How long have you known?”

“With all due respect your Highness,” Shinsuke mimicked the prince by setting down his cup and leaning forward in his seat. He held some loose strands of blond hair in between his fingers. “It’s not hard to pick out nobility. Us commoners don’t have fancy-colored hair like yours.”

The prince’s eyes deviated to the farmer’s hair: having naturally occurring black tips isn’t exactly common either. Shinsuke got up from his chair and began to clean the table. As he stacked the dishes, he began to inquire more about the runaway prince sitting in his small home.

“So, are you Miya Atsumu or Miya Osamu?”

“Atsumu,” the prince reclined in his chair, balancing himself on the hind legs.

“Then am I housing a fugitive?” The farmer started rinsing their dishes.

Atsumu let out blasé huff. “More like an exile.”

With a hum of acknowledgement, their conversation seemed to have died there.

The prince took the opportunity of Shinsuke turning his back away to examine the house. Atsumu had slept in the middle of the room in a futon (that still laid unraveled on the floor). The room he resided in was seemed to be the main room, as it had a small dining table in one corner and a large shelving fixture opposite of it. One the shelves were portraits of presumably Kita’s family as well as some small trinkets. It was covered with wall-to-wall tatami flooring, and the kitchen was by the entrance only separated by a screen door. The sound of water shutting off signaled the end of Atsumu’s investigation, so he returned to his seat.

“I have to return to the fields soon, so,” Shinsuke slipped back into his chair across from the prince. “We should figure out our arrangements quickly.”

“Arrangements?” Atsumu cocked up an eyebrow. “What arrangements?”

“Well, I assume you’re in hiding and have nowhere to go, so I would like to offer you food and lodging on one condition.”

“And what is that condition?”

The farmer handed him a worn, folded piece of paper. Atsumu opened it to see a timetable of sorts. _Accompany Granny to the physician’s office for weekly check-up, pick up Father’s daily readings, aide Shusui with his koto lessons, and help Mother shut down market stall._

“I’ve recently taken up the job of being on night watch, so I moved to be closer to the fields. It’s made taking care of my family a little more difficult. You just need to do these tasks, and you get to live with me for free. Our village doesn’t have many royal guards coming through, so the likelihood of you getting caught is slim to none.” Shinsuke tapped on the tabletop. “What do you think?”

Atsumu didn’t find the thought of running someone else’s errands fun. “Why can’t I just be on night watch for you?”

“You remember last night,” Shinsuke pointed at the prince’s bandaged arm. “Guards routinely run through the fields.”

He groaned and dramatically flopped back his arms behind the chair, head swinging back. Atsumu tried to weigh his options. He could easily go into hiding in a different town; maybe one far outside of his kingdom. However, it would take weeks of travel to even reach the border. He also poses the risk of running into people who’d turn him in. Here, he’d at least have stable lodging and food supply. But he _really_ hates the idea of chores.

“Fine.” Atsumu rolled his head forward to face the patient farmer. He stuck out an open hand. “It’s a deal.”

Shinsuke nodded and shook his hand.

From then on, the two fell into a comfortable routine. Kita would come back from his morning shift to cook breakfast for them, and they’d convene about any changes to the prince’s schedule. Eventually, their conversations began to include talks about each other —mostly of Atsumu’s life before he met Shinsuke.

One morning, the prince emerged from the washroom with a short, choppy haircut. It was also dyed a dark brown. Kita nearly dropped their side dishes when he saw Atsumu.

“You changed your hair,” he stated observantly.

“I got sick and tired of wearing my hair up and under a hat while out in the village,” the prince shrugged as he sat down. For the rest of the meal, Kita kept staring at the new Atsumu in front of him.

Atsumu would leave to start his daily tasks after they both finished eating. He would meet with Kita’s granny, Yumie-baasan is what Atsumu ends up calling her after her stubborn insistence, at the _shogi_ shop in the center of the village to accompany her to the doctor’s office once a week. He continued visiting her daily, playing games of _shogi_ with her on their off-days.

Once the fifth hour after sunrise came, Atsumu would stop by the newsstand to grab Kita’s father’s readings. Each day, three heavy bounded books was shoved into his arms for him to carry uphill to the village’s academy. Kita’s father was one of few teachers in their area, so he taught a multitude of subjects. After the first few visits, Atsumu decided to stay with the farmer’s father to help him grade some assignments. This came by after the prince almost suffered a heart attack when he walked into Kita’s father passing out in his chair from stress. Most of the assignments were simple ones that had a key written out for him to consult.

Atsumu’s grading ended whenever an enthusiastic Shusui came bursting into the staff office. This always came with a scolding from his father for being too loud. The young boy would drag the prince to the school garden so that they could practice together. They’d sit under a vintage-looking pagoda and strum the strings of the _koto_. Atsumu felt most confident in this task, as he was classically trained to play the stringed instrument.

“Shin-niichan played _taiko_ when he was in school,” he informed the prince. “He learned from Papa.”

Most days, after they finished practice and were walking to the market together, the young Kita brother would educate Atsumu more about the man he was living with. He proclaimed himself to be an expert on his “Shin-niichan”.

“Oh really, I thought he played _koto_ like you, Shu-chan.” Atsumu commented. “Didn’t he used to help you practice?”

“It’s ‘cause Niichan has a good ear, so he can tell me if I’m playing the song right.” The young boy had climbed up a ledge and was balancing on it as he walked. Atsumu held onto his hand just in case.

The prince learned much about Kita Shinsuke: he’s a talented musician, a horrible painter, a very diligent son and grandson, a champion at packing rice bags, and a dutiful man. From a young age, he took on the responsibility of the family housework. Everything he did was done properly —always done properly. He didn’t cut corners or complete something half way; he saw it through.

Shusui and Atsumu normally arrived at the marketplace around sunset. They helped Kita’s mother bring home all of her merchandise and equipment. The prince would bid them goodbye once they reached the Kita family home. Depending on how long it took him to walk home that day, he’d arrive to see either Shinsuke cooking dinner or reading at the table while he waited for the prince.

One day, while they ate dinner, Atsumu realized a fundamental gap in his knowledge about Kita Shinsuke. So he turned to the main source of information.

“Kita-san, when do you sleep?” The prince asked in the middle of their meal.

Shinsuke paused midway of taking a bite of his food. He looked at the man across the table, confused. “At night?”

That didn’t satisfy his inquiry, so Atsumu pressed on. “But you’re on night watch. You leave after dinner, then I don’t see you until breakfast the next day.”

“Surely you knew that your servants slept when you did too, Your Highness.” The farmer replied, continuing his meal. “I sleep from midnight ’til dawn.”

Atsumu couldn’t pinpoint why that made him feel guilty. The wellbeing of the people who worked for him never crossed his mind before; he just assumed they knew what they were doing. However, seeing an exhausted Shinsuke come home and prepare meals for him every day while Atsumu got to spend time with the farmer’s family didn’t sit right with him.

“You know, I can wake up to cook for us so that you can actually rest during your breaks.” Atsumu offered, moving his share of marinated egg into the farmer’s bowl. It was a natural, unconscious action. Shinsuke accepted the egg absentmindedly, popping it into his mouth.

“I’m fairly confident that your upbringing never prepared you for cooking commoner’s food,” he replied after swallowing his bite of food and taking a sip of his herbal tea. “It’s much more difficult than it seems.”

Despite the farmer’s dismissal, the next day the prince forced himself to wake up slightly before Shinsuke came home for breakfast to prepare their meal. A pot of rice was already sitting on the counter, most likely prepared that morning by the elder. Atsumu got started with steaming the vegetables using a bamboo basket he saw Kita use once. While that cooked, he tried his hand at frying the fish for their entree. The oil splashed as he dropped it into the pan, burning the back of his hand slightly. Other than that, everything seemed to have gone smoothly. All that was left was to sit and wait for the farmer to come home.

Atsumu felt a blossom of pride when he saw Shinsuke’s surprised expression when he entered the house. The table was already set for their meal, and all was left was for him to try it.

“It’s very… bland,” Kita commented after taking a bite of the steamed vegetables. “Did you put any seasoning in this after cooking?”

“You’re suppose to season it? I thought they were naturally salty,” Atsumu said with eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His ignorance was apparently funny enough to cause the farmer to burst into laughter. It left the prince admiring in awe; he’d never seen Kita laugh so vibrantly before.

With a promise of Shinsuke cooking with him after Atsumu came back from his daily tasks, the prince made his merry way into town. He had an unabashed joy emitting form him all day, as he kept in mind of their promise. “When is the wedding?” Kita’s granny asked jokingly, after he told her about their evening plans. This caused the young man to burst into a fit of stutters. When he told Kita’s mother about Shinsuke’s promise to teach him how to cook, she insisted that he take home some freshly made soba noodles for them to enjoy.

“It’s not every day I can send home something special for Shinsuke,” she said as Atsumu safely tied up the _furoshiki_ cloth around the bundle of dried noodles. Her eyes turned soft at the thought of her son. “Please, take care of him as well as you take care of us, Atsumu-kun.”

The prince hadn’t heard Kita’s mother call him by his name before. The warmth in his heart flushed across his chest. He bowed with gratitude and thanked her before waving a farewell. When Atsumu turned back, he saw her wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. He was excited to get home: to see Shinsuke waiting for him in _their_ home.

Blinded with emotion, the prince didn’t realize a hand reaching from behind him and pulling him off the trail. His wrists were tied first —so quickly he didn’t even realized they were bounded together until a bag was placed over his head. Atsumu tried to struggle to break out, kicking anything and anyone in his vicinity, thrashing his head back and forth but with no avail. Suddenly, he felt a strike on the back of his neck, and he slipped out of consciousness.

When he came to, Atsumu was tied securely to a chair, surrounded by familiar decor and facing a familiar face. He scowled once he saw his father’s face. Unlike Kita’s father’s friendly expressions and humble aura, his own father was an eyesore to him. The atmosphere was always tense and suffocating.

“Welcome home, son.” He greeted with fake merriment. The court of people sitting in front of him clapped with forced enthusiasm.

“Is this your idea of a welcome home party?” Atsumu retorted. The emperor motioned for the guard to untie his son. Once the restraints came off, he rubbed his stinging wrists in hopes of getting the pain to go away.

“You left me no choice, Atsumu. You abandoned your responsibilities, and you had to pay the consequences for your actions.”

“I,” he huffed in frustration. “I abandoned my _responsibilities_? You abandoned your _family_ , Your Majesty.”

“You have to understand that war comes with sacrifices —”

“And you decided to sacrifice Mom and Osamu.”

The room went silent. While everyone knew that the Empress was killed over a decade ago by a foreign assassin, no one outside of the royal family really knew what happened to the other young prince as he hasn’t been seen in months. The emperor dismissed everyone from the room. Once the door shut tight, his father stormed up to him and landed a lethal backhand slap across his face. Atsumu fell to the ground; a large thud echoed in the large room.

“Watch your tone when you utter your brother’s name.” The emperor looked down on his son, who was glaring back at him.

“Then watch your words when you speak of your betrayal,” Atsumu spat. “If you found yourself no longer in need of your family, then leave me alone.”

“I still need an heir, Atsumu. I’m not getting any older.”

“Then get one from one of your concubines.”

His father was growing angrier. He slammed his fists on the table in attempts to intimidate the young man. Atsumu didn’t flinch. “Have you learned nothing? The public will outrage if I suddenly have a new heir when, for all they know, I have two perfectly healthy adult sons born from their Empress.”

“Why is this any of my concerns?” He frowned as he got up and dusted his clothes. “I think you have more things to worry about if you keep me alive.”

The emperor raised an eyebrow, curious as to what his son had to say.

“If everyone finds out about what happened to Osamu, say, because of a leak from the palace, then they’d overthrow you.” Atsumu provoked. “They’d find out what you did to my mother —imagine what _her_ family would do to you.”

His father was about to hit him again, but this time he dodged and swerved behind him. The prince made his way to the throne, casually sitting down at the seat with his legs resting against the arm rest.

“However, if you say that your sons died heroically in war, then they’d pity you. They’d rally behind you, and your plans will be a success.” Atsumu explained. Behind his head was a bunch of grapes on a platter and he helped himself to one.

“What do you get out of this?” His father asked, leaning forward on the table in front of the throne.

“Freedom,” he put plainly. The prince swung his legs off the arm rest and sat in the seat. “No one knows what I look like now. I’ve found a quiet village to retire in. If you let me go now, we both get to live in peace.”

“A one time offer, _Father_ ,” Atsumu reclined back in the throne, crossing his legs obnoxiously. “Or I’ll make sure that I’ll be sitting on this throne with you beheaded.”

Back in the countryside, Shinsuke was an anxious wreck. When Atsumu hadn’t returned home that evening, he went out to search for him. The only thing he could find was an abandoned _furoshiki_ cloth with soba noodles in them. He recognized the fish pattern to be Shusui’s bento wrap. The young farmer was distracted for his entire morning shift, causing the aunties that worked with him to send him back to his family home to recover.

“I’ll let your mom know that you’re coming home Shin-chan, so get!” One of the aunties shooed him off the rice paddy.

“And you don’t worry about a single thing here! We’ll take care of things until you feel better.” Another chimed in, giving him a lively thumbs-up.

Shinsuke arrived at his family home in the middle of the day and was greeted by his granny sitting in the family room. He had already informed his family about Atsumu’s disappearance, so it wasn’t a surprise when his grandmother opened her arms wide for him to cuddle in.

“The gods are always watching, Shin-chan. I’m sure Atsumu-chan is okay.” She rubbed soothing lines down his back as Shinsuke buried his face into the soft fabric of her _kimono_.

That night, after dinner with his family, he retired in the futon set up next to Shusui’s. His brother pulled his to connect to Shinsuke’s and then tucked himself in.

“Niichan, I can practice _koto_ on my own!” He declared. “So you don’t need to worry about me!”

Shinsuke chuckled at his brother’s confidence and sudden declaration of independence. He ruffled the little boy’s fluffy hair. “Thank you Shusui, I appreciate that.”

The emptiness of Atsumu filled his dreams that night; he dreamt of coming home to Atsumu’s figure sitting in his home, sitting at his dining table with a table of food. However, as he approached him, all of the traces of the prince would disappear. The messy futon that was always on the floor disappeared. His meal servings would disappear. The clothes he wore were gone. Shinsuke woke up in a cold sweat. Luckily, he didn’t wake up Shusui, so he tried to go back to bed.

Shinsuke was stirred awake by the sound of an approaching galloping horse. The only time horses came into their village was when there was important news from the palace. He grabbed his _haori_ hanging from the hanger and went to see what was going on outside. When the farmer opened the door, a man in a conical hat was getting off of the horse.

“Is there something you need, sir? The head of my household is not home yet, but I can pass on the message…” His sentence trailed off when the mystery man turned to face him.

“No need, I’ve already talked to him,” Atsumu pulled the hat off his head, resting it on the back of his head. He handed him a royal message scroll. “I delivered him the news on my way here.”

Shinsuke unraveled the scroll, and in large bold font _“The Crown Princes Declared Dead as War Heroes”_. He gave the prince a bewildered look.

“I’m no longer Miya Atsumu, just Atsumu now.” He announced happily. Atsumu took Kita’s left hand into his and slid a silver ring onto his fourth finger. “So I’m going to need a new last name.”

When the former prince finally looked at Shinsuke’s face, he saw his tears well up in his eyes. The farmer suddenly broke into silent sobs which left Atsumu scrambling to console him.

“Kita-san, I’m sorry!” He was frantic. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. Please I’ll do anything, just don’t cry!”

“You missed dinner, Atsumu.” Shinsuke managed to say in between hiccups.

“I know, I’m so sorry Kita-san. Even after you offered to teach me how to cook.” Atsumu awkwardly rubbed circles on his back. “I can explain what happened.”

“And you missed breakfast. And last night’s dinner. Did you eat anything?” The farmer was rubbing tears out of his eyes.

He chuckled at the elder’s rambling. “I did. None of it was as good as your cooking.”

After Shinsuke was able to calm down from his shock and stopped crying, Atsumu went inside to greet Shusui and Kita’s granny. Shusui tried to brag that he claimed that he didn’t need the two men to help him with his music lessons but quickly took it back after Atsumu tried to walk out of the house again. The former prince came up and apologized to the elderly woman.

“I’m so sorry, Yumie-baasan. I missed our big game yesterday.” He bowed before her.

She offered him a bright smile and a pat on his shoulder. “Since it was your first absence, I can let it slide this once.”

The pair of men left the Kita household after sending Shusui off to school. They were walking back to Shinsuke’s home near the rice paddies. Atsumu kept glancing at the other’s left hand; the ring reflected in the sunlight.

“You never answered to my proposal,” he pointed out.

“We need to make some arrangements first,” Shinsuke replied.

“Arrangements?” Atsumu cocked up an eyebrow. “What arrangements?”

The farmer hummed in consideration. “We’re going to need a larger futon now.”

**Author's Note:**

> i write one scene with mentions of angst and feel the need to write 17 pages of fluff to recover  
> this prompt was super fun to write! i also squeezed some kita shusui scenes in for my own entertainment haha.
> 
> hope you enjoyed reading! come talk to me on twitter: @ohhanabi98


End file.
